(Lysander Cariaso) Lysander extended his own gauntleted hand as to clasp the Inquisitor's own, shacking it firmly as is often the custom of first meetings it would seem. "I am loyal to the Imperium and the Emperor, Inquisitor. As are we all. But my loyalty is not so quickly extended to those who have shown themselves as to be stepping outside the boundary's of their assigned office of power." His tone and facial expression was unwavering and serious in nature, openly showcasing his suspicion of the Inquisitor as he let go of her hand. "The inquisition have evaluated your decisions and have found them wanting. I am here to confirm or put to rest their concerns. But even if I am here on their behalf, I must inform you that my duty is to the populace of the Imperium and the Lex Imperiali. I hope that you find yourself doing the same." While his words were presented in a judgmental manner, it was but a reflection of his own position as a Judge. It was more so true to that he was simply engaging in conversation and breaking ground with the Inquisitor the best way he knew how. With the truth.
Phoebus found Virgil's presence to be comforting. Comforting that He would monitor the Eldar's psykers. However, the idea that he could be open to psychic attack once again was troubling. Phoebus had noticed the eager trooper following himself and Drax. He could threaten the armsman to return to the Valkyrie, but as these men had volunteered and beyond physical force they didn't have to listen to him. 'Whatever happens next is by your own choosing, trooper VI435.' OOC: Phorbus isn't psychic so he doesn't know Valen by name. If he has a different title would be happy to know.
"let the trooper come" as drax spoke he laughed "no doubt if for whatever reason we needed to shake hands the two of us would acidently crush the eldar frail hands with our power armoured fists" with that he looked at the trooper "what is your name soldier"
"Do not call me by number I'm am not one of the Armageddon clones my name is Valen Sectous of Cadia Sergeant is my title last one of my regiment Astartes." OOC:One of the guardsmen
"he means no offence seargent valen" as drax spoke he then smiled at the guardsman "sheath your weapons for now they mean us no harm at the moment"
OOC: CANT I STILL BE SORRY ABOUT HIM?! "Continued his Warlock career, lived with Exodites. Don't know where he currently is, but he got his leg fixed." Su'iris simply replied, looking still at Razauil as he satisfied his ... Needs. "I can imagine that obliterating a Deathwatch Research Station is not easily overlooked at. Though if the lies come from reports by an Inquisitor Knight, then I must tell you that the identity was stolen by Chaos forces in order to lure me personally. A Daemon for some reason is out for me, trying to break me. Mentioned my fathers side, which I do not know myself." Veronica replied, letting go of his hand slowly, her voice gave sincerity to the experienced ears of the Detective, yet she was easily old enough to even betray him with her voice. "I am glad that the Inquisition makes their research clear. Though beware that I am going to hunt the daemon. Despite it usually falling to Ordo Malleus business, the Daemon has an interest in me, which means I must put it down, especially since it cost the life of many of my retinue members. It is a personal crusade." Her voice turned into anger, her hands shaped fists, her eyes ablaze. As the group continued, they were led inside a big room. There was an elevator and stairs. The Guards led the Mon'keigh group to the elevator and gestured for it to enter, the Eldar themselves though took the stairs instead.... It must have been at least fifty levels up. The Exodites certainly were different than Craftworlder. If anyone knew, then it was Phoebus.
Richtor plops down on his bed puts his bayonet underneath his pillow and leans the shot gun against the wall and just looks up at the ceiling and just sits their the only sound going through the room.is the sound of his gas mask
OOC No. "Wouldn't it be fun..." he said in between breaths, "If he's...on the planet below?" The man was obviously shameless, but who would blame him. He was apparently used to such acts, and a close proximity to one of his old compatriots only brought those urges to surface. But then he suddenly stopped, got up and approached Su'iris in a casual display of supreme Dark Eldar physique and flawless musculature. But the mystery of his intent was short lived as he took the key and unlocked his friend's chains. "You know, perhaps this is not the smartest thing to do, but I gave a word to Teras long time ago that I'll keep you safe. Despite what you might think of me, I never break my promises." "You can go wherever you want, you are free," he simply said as he went back to his business, "But if you would hear me, I would suggest you go and take a shower. Bathroom is right over there, I got spare towels and all," he pointed at the door across the room as he continued with his work. He was of course, ready for combat at any time, just like any Dark Eldar, not to mention one of his age - the punisher was just at arm's reach, in case his friend got any strange ideas...
Dranov saw the servitors spinning around him, weapons at the ready. His naked body was quick to react. He first shot at the Servitor with the Autocannon. Its was instantly melted by the Volkite pistol. Due to him having to keep the weapon aimed, another Servitor flanked him with Chainswords buzzing. He dodged one its two weapons, before shoving his Power Glove through the center of the Close Combat Servitor. He pulled out cables, mechanical organs, and gore. Crushing them all in his fist. The image of this broken Servitor brought back a random memory in his head. The memory was of several hundred guards men lying broken on the floor, most of their torso's completely ruptured, due to Bolter fire. This distracted Dranov, letting the other servitor with a lasgun score a hit at his back. The feeling of his burning skin made Dranov turn quickly to grab the Servitor, who had been several feet from his back. With one hand Dranov threw the servitor over his shoulder and executed him with his Pistol. "Threats neutralized"
